A geek legend

Gordon Brown is paranoid and a terrible communicator, politicians cooking eggs online is a stroke of genius, and the 'DPP stuff' was unfortunate, according to the Spectator's political editor. James Silver reports

When the Spectator's new-ish political editor, Fraser Nelson, was first sounded out about doing this interview, there was a splutter of incredulity on the other end of the phone. "Surely you want to speak to a journalist who has actually accomplished something?" was his eventual response. It is certainly true that when Nelson took over from his illustrious predecessor, Peter Oborne, a year ago, few outside the looking-glass world of the Westminster village had a clue who he was. However, not only is this self-styled "geek" now routinely referred to as the fastest rising star in rightwing political journalism, but he is also the protege of Andrew Neil - which fact alone marks him out as someone to keep an eye on.

Mini Me

Hired while still a journalism student by Sunday Telegraph editor Patience Wheatcroft, when she ran the Times's business desk, Nelson was later poached by Neil to join the Scotsman, then owned by the Barclay brothers. Having Neil as a cheerleader was a mixed blessing for Nelson, of course, because the former Sunday Times editor has as many enemies as admirers. Sure enough, when the Barclays bought the Spectator and Neil became its publisher, appointing Nelson first as associate editor, then as political editor, the sniping from the magazine's old guard began. Media commentator Stephen Glover, dropped as a columnist by Neil, damned Nelson with the faintest of praise, describing him as "quite good, though perhaps not as good as Mr Oborne" and elsewhere referred to him, scornfully, as "that unparalleled genius".

In many ways it is hard to resist seeing Nelson as a Neil "Mini Me". After all, both are Scottish Tories from relatively modest backgrounds (although Nelson was educated privately). They are Glasgow university alumni - and former editors of the student newspaper - who found success quickly in journalism. At the same age that Neil became a national newspaper editor - 34 - Nelson juggles his Spectator duties with the political editorship of its sister title, the Business, as well as a weekly column for the News of the World and ever-expanding broadcasting and blogging commitments.

We meet in the Spectator's new Georgian townhouse home on Old Queen Street, a short walk from parliament. The move from its previous chaotic base in Doughty Street has coincided with the magazine's vigorous, if belated, push into cyberspace. Ten days ago, editor Matthew D'Ancona launched Coffee House, an entertaining blog to which Nelson is, naturally, a leading contributor. "A lot of gossip takes place in this building," he says, "and the idea is that with Coffee House, we'll share it with our readers. When the Spectator launched [in 1828] the whole coffee-house scene was very big in London and what we're doing now we hope is an echo of that."

Although Nelson insists he was not particularly interested in politics while growing up, he recalls reading a quote when he was 16. "It said: 'The government which governs best, governs least,' and I remember thinking that that was exactly right." Instinctively "distrustful of political authority", he by and large "applauded" the Thatcher years, which he concedes was "odd" for a Scottish teen.

His approach to journalism, he explains, is heavily influenced by Wheatcroft, who would encourage her reporters to go out and gather their own statistics. "It sounds weird, but I've even now got a very data-based approach to political journalism," he says.

"The guys at the News of the World always tease me for having these huge spreadsheets in front of me."

What kind of data does he look for? "You name it ... anything to do with poverty, social mobility, the break-up of marriage and economics. Basically, what I do is bug the Office for National Statistics to death. Data can be a great tool for analysing what is really going on. For one cover piece, it enabled me to work out how many people in Britain were dependent on the state for benefits or their job - just over half of the electorate."

Isn't all this a bit nerdy? "Yes, absolutely," he laughs. "You can get natural journalists and constructed ones. I'm a constructed one. I'm sure Peter Oborne can write his fantastic prose off the top of his head. It takes me forever. I'm basically a numbers geek. Some guys are really gifted, I'm the type who sweats blood." At that point we are interrupted by an NBC television crew - who are there to interview Neil - and unceremoniously ejected from the Spectator's boardroom. A frantic and entirely fruitless search for a spare office follows, and we end up decamping to a nearby cafe.

"There's something I should probably say ..." Nelson resumes a touch nervously, before going on to anticipate my next question, ". . . the one thing I can't talk about is the DPP stuff."

The "DPP stuff" refers to the fallout in March over a Spectator cover story by Nelson that implied that the director of public prosecutions, Sir Ken Macdonald QC, had been leaking information about the "cash-for-honours" police investigation to allies in Downing Street. The magazine was forced to issue an embarrassing apology.

But why can't Nelson talk about it now that the dust has settled? "We did a clarification, and now apparently if I say anything that detracts from the wording of the clarification then it is, like, a legal problem."

It is interesting to hear him use the term "clarification" rather than "apology". The wording of this "clarification" concluded: "We [further] accept that Sir Ken has behaved properly and appropriately and we apologise to him for any embarrassment caused to him by our article" - which sounds pretty much like a grovelling, lawyer-approved apology to me.

Isn't saying he can't talk about it for legal reasons a bit of a cop-out? He sighs. "I don't know. The point is, as I said in the piece, it was impossible to say whether [Macdonald] had passed information to the police or not and if we had said that it would have been outrageous, but we said specifically it was impossible to say so."

He concedes: "It could have been worded more clearly and we did a clarification rather than a retraction for exactly that reason." In what sense more clearly? "His complaint was that if you read the article you got the wrong impression."

He is beginning to sound precisely like the sort of stonewalling politician every journalist loathes. Needless to say, he perks up considerably as we return to safer ground - namely, David Cameron's handling of the media. In that department, "things couldn't be any worse" than they were under the previous incumbent, Michael Howard, Nelson claims.

Is he a fan of webcameron - the Tory leader's sometimes toe-curling video-blog - which offers visitors everything from his musings on Blair's legacy to a glimpse of him whipping up scrambled eggs at home? "Cameron's light years ahead of Labour when it comes to the web," he replies, "although how influential the internet actually is remains one of those unanswered questions. A certain part of the electorate likes seeing Cameron cooking scrambled eggs and thinks you can get the measure of the man that way. I mean, can you imagine Gordon Brown on camera, cooking scrambled eggs at home?"

Thin skinned

When listening to Nelson talk about the chancellor, it strikes me that his dislike for the man verges on the visceral. A recent Coffee House post by his editor refers to how John Major "at his most paranoid" used to have "a flunky" bring him every edition of the Evening Standard, which he would then scour for leaks from his team. According to Nelson, Brown has similar tendencies. "The problem is Brown takes things very personally. He's very thin-skinned and that's a terrible problem for him, as he's going to get a lot of abuse.

He sees enemies everywhere. I was told how he would have a little list of journalists who he figured were against him. Blair, on the other hand, understands that journalists are just doing their jobs. Brown always takes the view that those who disagree with him are either malign or confused. "

Being a "terrible communicator", he continues, is a catastrophic flaw in a premier. "When giving interviews, Brown needs an interpreter. If you talk to journalists who have interviewed Brown, they'll tell you it's the devil's own job getting a [news] line out of him. The PRs have to phone you up afterwards and tell you what the news story was."

He cites a conversation in the Red Lion, a well-known Westminster pub, with an image-consultant who had been brought in "to teach Brown to smile". He says: "She said the problem was that when he remembered to smile it was always in the wrong places. In the end, he looked so terrifying she just gave up. That encapsulates the whole problem with him. As Hugo Young might have put it, he's just not one of us."

Curriculum Vitae

Age 34

Education Nairn Academy and Dollar Academy (Clackmannanshire). Glasgow University (history and politics), City University (diploma in journalism)

Career 1997-2001 the Times, business reporter, retail correspondent, then Scottish political correspondent 2001-2006 the Scotsman, political editor 2003-present the Business, political editor 2006-present Joins the Spectator as associate editor, becoming political editor last April 2006-present News of the World, political columnist